


Great Love (Pt. 2/?) - Bad Blood

by ohdaito



Series: Great Love [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Not Blaine Friendly, Not Klaine Friendly, kadam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdaito/pseuds/ohdaito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You could date two people or two million people, but that one great love is unforgettable. True love stories never have endings.” A Kadam-centric Epic about Kurt’s life after the Klaine proposal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great Love (Pt. 2/?) - Bad Blood

“There was nothing I could do,” Kurt said softly. “My dad pushed me into my car and just drove. I knew what was happening, and I just wanted to scream and yell and… but I didn’t do anything. I knew Blaine was going to propose, and I didn’t tell my dad to turn the car around. I don’t know why. I was terrified. My dad told me that he wished he married my mother sooner. I was scared and guilty.

“Blaine had my father’s blessing. My sick, cancerous father gave Blaine his blessing. I should’ve expected it, too. He and Blaine have always had a close relationship. He told Blaine he was sick before he told me – his own son! It makes sense on some level, though, why they get along so well. There’s some undeniable need encoded in both of their DNA that programmed them to always want to protect me. I don’t need protection.

“Blaine was my everything, my first of everything – he was the first person to show an interest in me, emotionally, physically and mentally. I gave myself to him fully. And by fully, I really mean _fully._

“Then he ran off and cheated on me when I wasn’t able to return his calls as often as I would’ve liked. He thought it was my fault. I think it was.

“Do you think it was? I mean, I could’ve stayed in Lima for a bit longer, even though he pushed me towards New York. I think I could’ve stayed – then, maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I wouldn’t be stuck between a rock and a hard place. I think it was my fault.

“Blaine has my history, he knows everything about me, my dad is absolutely enthralled with him, and he has already placed his stake within my life. As much as I want to erase everything that has happened between us, I can’t.

“Every day I want to die. Oh, god, that’s an awful thing to say, isn’t it? I just… I can’t stand to be around Blaine, because I know what he’s done to me in the past, and it hurts too much; but I also can’t _not_ be around him, because for all I know, he could be with another guy! It’s happened before.

“He says he’ll never cheat on me again. I don’t believe him.”

“Kurt, sweetie,” interrupted Isabelle, “what happened to Adam?”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?” Isabelle frowned.

“Gone. I miss him.”

“I know you do, Kurt.”

Kurt stared at his hands, folded tightly in his lap. The dirty sweatshirt across his chest scratched at his skin when he stood up.

 “Blaine and I are getting married. It’ll be a late fall wedding. I hope you’ll be able to make it.”

Isabelle Wright smiled sadly, and reached out to hold Kurt’s hand. “I wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.”

* * *

They were fighting. Kurt was nineteen, and Blaine was eighteen. They couldn’t get married, of course not, they had time and they could wait. They were young, but they were engaged. Engaged with rings on their fingers, and engaged in quite a row.

“I never stopped loving you!” Blaine yelled, storming over to stand in Kurt’s face. Kurt shook his head violently.

“Yes, you did, Blaine!” Kurt was yelling back. “I’m not stupid – and stop thinking I am!”

“Kurt…” Blaine warned, stepping closer still. His eyes were slits.

“You… you cheated on me with some faceless trash!”

Blaine crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.

“And you and Tina spend more time together than we ever did.” Blaine opened his mouth to speak, to retaliate, but Kurt continued. “Don’t think that I’ve cut all ties to McKinley, Blaine. I still text everyone pretty frequently – Brittany and Artie keep me clued into _everything_ that happens.”

The room was off-white. It was Kurt’s room before he left for college some hundreds of miles away. At the time, Kurt had deduced off-white was the most flattering color for his skin tone and his preferred wardrobe choices. Now, it’s bland. He couldn’t stand it.

He longed for red.

“According to Artie, you and Tina hold hands and hug more than you were _ever_ willing to do with me! And… and Sam! You sung him a song to encourage him to follow his dreams, and all you ever did was take mine…”

“You’re being stupid. I helped you fill out your college application, and you know it.”

Kurt was beyond angry. Flames were licking at his tongue. “Coach Sylvester told me you attended one of her workout classes. Apparently you and some other student were eyefucking, right there?”

“Kurt, you’re not being fair. We were broken up. I had a right to do whatever I wanted in my love life.”

Kurt wanted to cry.

* * *

Kurt and Blaine were back together in New York City. Their bodies were sweaty and void of any clothing; said clothing littered the entryway and living room of Kurt’s apartment. They were both sleeping more or less peacefully on Kurt’s bed when the doorbell rang.

Kurt threw on a shirt and black jeans before striding slowly to the door. On the ground below him sat a small, white box. Inside, upon inspection, was a sagging, knit hat. It was red. The note lying upon it sighed sadly.

Kurt held it to his chest and looked towards his bedroom.

* * *

When Blaine left to return to Ohio for an undetermined amount of time, Rachel began to plan Kurt and Blaine’s wedding as if Kurt wasn’t the one to already have his dream wedding drawn up, hidden in the depths of his closet. She arranged for the wedding to be held in a small church in Brooklyn and for a single white dove in a cage to be present at the altar when Kurt recited his vows.

Blaine had grinned and kissed the webcam for Rachel when she told him. Kurt had lingered in the background, the too-tight drawstrings of his sweatpants digging into the skin on his hips.

* * *

“Kurt?”

“Hmm?”

* * *

Santana looked up when Kurt suddenly left the couch to make his way to the fire escape, feet bare despite the cold, autumn wind outside. He sat down outside and watched the people on the street below him. They had been sitting in silence, Santana painting her nails while Kurt stared at his hands.

Kurt’s head bowed outside and his shoulders began shake. Santana narrowed her eyes; she doubted it was because of the wind.

“Hey, Berry,” Santana called to the kitchen, when she was sure Kurt couldn’t hear her. Rachel stopped cutting her vegetables and looked up.

“What?”

“Do you think Kurt is depressed or something?”

Rachel set down her knife and strode over to stand behind the couch, arms coming up to circle her chest. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Then why has he been so mopey and quiet lately? All he does is sit on the fire escape.”

“That doesn’t make him depressed, Santana,” Rachel huffed, rolling her eyes. She returned to the kitchen. “I’m sure he just misses Blaine!”

Santana doubted it.

* * *

“How many great loves do you think each person gets in their life?”

“One.”

“Why?”

* * *

Santana had only been in Kurt’s room a handful of times before, most of those times to snoop, and now was no different. She knew Kurt was hiding something –not explicit, per se, but every night she could hear Kurt crying from his room and she was, though she would never admit it, concerned.

She found what she needed in less than a minute: sitting there, obvious and bright, on Kurt’s mahogany bedside table, was a Polaroid photograph. She remembered when she took it.

* * *

_Adam’s apartment was nothing in comparison to the loft in Bushwick. It was a small studio apartment he owned by himself, with a queen bed in the corner and a table with only three chairs opposite. Kurt, Santana, and Adam were seated around the table, Santana across from Adam and Kurt’s dangerously close chairs. She smirked._

_She was telling a story, much to Kurt’s horror, of the time he had arrived to school drunk out of his mind in sophomore year. Adam’s eyes were alight with laughter and delight, glancing back to Kurt with a wide grin on his face._

_Santana continued, “You’ll never guess what our little drunkard here did next. He actually_ threw up _on our guidance counselors shoes – she had to be escorted from the building because she was fa-reaking out. And Lady Hummel just stumbled back to class!”_

_Adam couldn’t contain his laughter. It was loud and joyful and one of the prettiest sounds Kurt had ever heard. Santana grinned and casually picked up her camera, of which she had taken to carrying around with her everywhere – fearful that one day she may forget her best memories – and quickly snapped a picture of, first, Kurt’s red, embarrassed face, and then of Adam’s delighted, laughing one._

_She set down the camera before either had noticed; she’d show Kurt the pictures later._

_Smiling, she said, “King Henry, did I ever tell you about the time Kurt was a cheerleader?”_

_Kurt groaned. Adam smiled and kissed Kurt lightly on the cheek._

* * *

Santana, struck with a sudden guilt and sympathy she had never cared to experience before, slowly sat down on the edge of Kurt’s bed and stared at the photograph in her hands. She chose to ignore the deep, bleeding color stains dotting the picture.

She knew why Kurt was unhappy and she understood completely. She pocketed the photograph and left the room.

* * *

Two months into the engagement, Kurt received the best news he’d heard in a long time. When Isabelle, smile worried but eyes warm, had told him he was being promoted from intern to assistant, the grin felt foreign on his lips but he paid it no mind.

“What does this mean?” he had asked, with an excited hop. He clutched his planner to his chest for fear of floating away. Isabelle chucked softly.

“It means you’ll receive a higher pay wage, access to the Vogue closet, and a key to my apartment,” she had said, placing it in his hand, fingers circling around his. Kurt looked up, confused.

“Why? Why a key to your apartment, I mean?”

“Well, Kurt, you’re my assistant. I may need you to pick up a file I forgot, or entertain associates if I’m stuck in traffic,” Isabelle had said, sitting down behind her desk. “But I want you to know that you can come over to my place whenever you feel unsafe, or if you feel scared… or, well, you know, something of that sort.”

Kurt had nodded, and the key’s sharp edges dug into the palm of his hand like a knife.

The conversation was temporarily forgotten as he raced up the stairs to his apartment, to where Santana, Rachel, and Blaine were waiting for him. He quickly unlocked the door, fingers accidentally brushing against Isabelle’s key. His heart skipped a beat, but his absolute happiness suddenly washed over him, and all he could think of was to tell his girls.

Quickly, he rushed in and closed the door. Everyone was on the couch, talking, with the television a low murmur in the background. Kurt grinned and set his things on the table, before skipping over to them.

Santana smirked. “Damn, Hummel. Look at you. See another soap opera celebrity on the street again?”

Kurt shook his head, grin still present. “No, no! You’ll never guess what happened to me!”

Rachel cocked her head to the side. “You saw a… Lifetime movie celebrity on the street?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “No, of course not! Oh, you all are terrible at guessing! I just received a promotion at Vogue; you are looking at a new and improved, _assistant_ , Kurt!”

Santana stood up and grasped him tightly in a strong hug. “Good for you, Lady! Hell knows you’ve worked for it hard enough!”

Rachel smiled happily, standing to walk to the kitchen. “This calls for a celebration! Who wants apple cider?”

When Santana released him from the hug, and instead ruffled his hair, Kurt glanced towards Blaine, his silent fiancé. Blaine met his eyes and smiled, but otherwise remained still. Kurt, distracted, let his eyes tear away from Blaine’s to accept the apple cider from Rachel and cuddle up in an armchair to tell everyone how it happened.

Blaine turned away, hiding his face. His eyes were misty and distant, his mind working at a rapid rate. Kurt noticed, but said nothing. He accepted the congratulations and the exclamations of praise from the girls and drank his cider.

* * *

"You could date two people or two million people, but that one great love is unforgettable. _True love stories never have endings.”_

* * *

Kurt never knew if Blaine would be in town when he came home from work every night. Blaine had a habit of dropping in unexpectedly, never with roses like the first time, but with a smile and an obvious flash of the ring on his finger.

Kurt returned home late, his girls soundly asleep. He saw Blaine curled up on the couch, and a bout of sadness welled up within him. He vaguely remembered the way his eyes would well with happy tears whenever he saw Blaine’s sleeping form, but not anymore.

Kurt didn’t know how he felt. He felt lost.

Lost.

He took care of his nightly routine in record time, his dizzy mind forcing him to bed. He let his head fall softly against his pillow and pulled his comforter up to his chin, shivering slightly. He went under almost immediately, body tired and eyes strained.

It was three o’clock in the morning when he woke up. Disoriented and confused, he opened his eyes to see a figure sitting down at the bottom of his bed. Startled, Kurt jumped into a sitting position, blanket coming up to cover himself. When his eyes adjusted, he saw that it was only Blaine.

“Blaine, what are you doing here?” he slurred, voice raspy from sleep. “I’m exhausted and I have to be up in two hours; go back to the couch, I’m not in the mood to have sex or cuddle or anything.”

Blaine didn’t respond. Instead, he looked up meet Kurt with a troubled, teary look. Kurt’s shoulders relaxed, though he did not, and he sat up straighter. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Blaine shook his head. “Kurt, I…”

It was silent.

“What, Blaine?” his voice wasn’t above a murmur. The wind beating against the wall was louder than his own breathing.

“Kurt, I am so sorry, I just couldn’t not tell you, I-“

“Blaine, is everyone okay? Wait, did Santana forget to take her medicine?”

“No, Kurt, I-“

Kurt interrupted again, voice becoming hysterical. “Oh, god, is it my dad’s heart? Of course he would tell you before me! God, is his cancer returning?”

“Kurt, let me finish-“

“It is my dad, then! Or, or, no, is it Adam? Are his eyes okay? Wait, god, is it Isabelle? She gave me her key, see? Maybe it was to check on her or something and I didn’t do that and now-”

“Kurt!” Blaine exclaimed, tears now streaming down his face. They dripped onto Kurt’s blanket, leaving dark, black circles. Kurt looked away. His ears rang and his face grew red; he coughed the tears away.

“Don’t say it, Blaine,” he whispered.

But he did. “I slept with someone else.”


End file.
